Of these other korbanot, the example given is that of the korban Shelamim - ‘זאת תורת זבח השלמים’ – This is the law of the Shelamim (peace-offering). The korban Olah was sacrificed from the days of Noah, whereas the korban Shelamim was a new concept. There are several differences between the two, one of which is that while the entire korban Olah is burnt on the altar, the korban Shelamim is divided up, with some parts burnt on the altar, some eaten by the priests, Kohanim, and some eaten by the person offering the sacrifice. This is also the reason given to the name of the korban - Shelamim, which comes from the word shalom, because by dividing it up between all parties it brings peace and unity.
It seems that the concept of korban Olah was initiated by man, whereas the korban Shelamim needed to be introduced by the Torah. This may be because it is logical to think that what is sacrificed to Hashem should go to Him and Him alone; it is very easy to relate the absolute to religion, which many religions do. However, it is far more complicated to recognise elements of the Divine within less spiritual areas, and therefore the Torah tells us the Shlamim should be eaten by man to introduce the concept that spirituality can exist within the physical world
I write these lines when the tragic news from last Shabbat in Israel is still very fresh, on the day on which the five members of a family murdered by terrorists in their own home are being buried. The father, Rav Udi Fogel, הי"ד, was a genuine role model to me. He was someone who knew how to embody lofty ideals within the practical world, and who was so idealistic that he was always sacrificing for the sake of Hashem.
I think not only of his life that was literally sacrificed this week, but of when I was in the army and Udi was my officer. Today, many in Israel manage to avoid serving in the army. Of those who do serve, many do not go into combat units. And most of those who are in combat units do not devote additional years of effort and responsibility by becoming officers. For Udi, this was even more of a sacrifice, as he was already married at the time. Being married and being a combat soldier are two almost contradicting values. The sacrifice here is by both the soldier, and even more so his wife, who must be supportive and yet lonely at the same time. After the army, Udi had gone to live in Gush Katif, which at the time was a tremendous mesirut nefesh (self-sacrifice). He was then torn away from his home in the "disengagement" and went with his family to live in the Shomron, Samaria, where he dedicated his life to education.
Udi Fogel, as I knew him in the army, was a genuine tzaddik. a righteous man. As well as being a very capable officer, he was a humble man who always talked softly and with great respect to others - even to those whom he was supposed to be ‘bullying’. Udi was not born righteous, but some time in between being in the same school and meeting him in the army five years later, he developed into a truly admirable person. He took his physical qualities and used them for the good, making him the tzaddik whom I knew.
Another important element of korbanot is the כפרה(atonement) which they bring about. Similarly, we are taught that the death of the righteous brings atonement. May the tragic deaths of the more than half of the Fogel family bring atonement for us all. תהא נשמתם צרורה בצרור החיים- May their souls be bound up in the bond of eternal life.